


Under Falling Suns

by Fallen_Dawn



Category: Hermitcraft, Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: AHAHAHAHA, Alternate Realities, backstories my friends, but they’ll get longer, chapters are short rn, just hang in there, other dimensions, probably a good idea to have been caught up on all this stuff but you don’t really have to, the character tags are not what they seem, this is gonna be fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26735806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_Dawn/pseuds/Fallen_Dawn
Summary: What if Hels’ world was a fully-fledged place?What if Ex was a good guy for once in his life?What if he was sent to go stop Hels?someone please stop the angsty bois
Relationships: platonic stuff is cool my dudes
Comments: 18
Kudos: 41





	1. And so it begins

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy...

Twenty-two years ago  
Undisclosed Server

The kid sat, sniveling, in his closet, small as the confined space was.  
He rubbed his tears from his face roughly, knowing that if anyone found him like this, sobbing pathetically, he’d be punished severely.  
Like always.  
The kid leaned back against the dark brick of the wall, disgusted yet somewhat comforted by the oppressive heat of his home. House. Not home. This place was no home of his.  
“YOU PATHETIC SQUIRE! COME HERE AT ONCE!” His father’s booming voice echoed through their small home.  
He felt a spike of indignation and huddled deeper into the closet, hiding behind his father’s dark linens.  
A pathetic squire?  
Ha.  
He’d show them.  
He’d show all of them.  
He’d be the best knight there ever was. A champion. One, who when they rode into battle on their mighty steed, would defeat the enemy just by striking them with petrifying fear.  
Smirking, the kid narrowed his eyes, blowing his dark locks out of his face. His father always told him he was a good-for-nothing, but he forgot that teaching ‘good-for-nothings’ really good advice usually earned them a better label.  
And one of the things he’d picked up along in his short eight years was that there were always two battles to win, even if the second one was a bit more important for a champion.  
An emotional battle and a physical battle.  
And this small knight intended to win both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, hello there!  
> Hopefully this all goes to plan...  
> Just the prologue, most of this won’t be this short lol  
> Still working out most of the plot, so there won’t be any coherent schedule just yet.  
> ...Yeah!  
> Think that’s it!  
> Hope you guys have a wonderful day/night!


	2. I’m Fairly Local

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Time skips will be happening, peeps, we’ve got over two decades to zoom through.

Sixteen years ago

Hells City, Hellscape

Running was too slow.  
But it was all he could do.

Hels leapt over the dumpster, skidding out of the alley and into the streets of Hells City, trying not to run into any passerby. His breath was coming in ragged, torn gasps for air as he paused in the center of the large street, chest still heaving irregularly from the breakdown that occurred not even an hour before.

Of course, that breath escaped him with the pure awe of the city.

The dim red light that eternally dulled Hellscape didn’t distract from the gorgeous architecture of the center of the city, gold gilded into nearly every surface. Blackstone was the main building material, so different from the netherrack of the surrounding outskirts.

He loved it.

A buzzing of the ever familiar TIE Fighters whizzed overhead, coming and going from the center of the city, leaving behind an extra smell of gasoline and redstone that hung in a trademark smog over the city.

Speeders zoomed through the streets themselves, different uniformed and armored guards atop them, not really caring if they ran over anyone who was knocked over. Hels’ breath caught in his throat. More guards were stationed at every corner, menacing posture scaring him.

What if they’d been alerted of what he’d done...

What if they noticed _what he was_...

His brain went into overdrive, and he ran on, hand held protectively over his satchel.

They couldn’t have been alerted of what he’d done.

His father wouldn’t have noticed that he was missing. Not like his family cared in the first place. They didn’t even have the money to call some guards over a runaway kid.

At least, he hoped they didn’t.

The sword sheathed to his back thumped guiltily as he ran.

And surely they wouldn’t have noticed him at first glance. Pointed ears and red eyes aren’t the easiest to spot from a distance.

He looked up. Where was he even running to?

Anywhere better than where he came from.

Anywhere.

Caught up in his thoughts, he wasn’t fast enough to react to someone walking in front of him. Crashing into them, he fell to the ground, hissing as he skinned his shoulder.

... well, that hurt.

The person in front of him had already whipped out a sword and had it against his neck, eyes flashing.

“Watch where you’re going, imbecile!” The person glared down at him. White-blond hair was tied back into a long ponytail, dull grey goggles perched on top of the girl’s head. She had on a striped T-shirt, knee-high boots, and shorts, a long trench coat hanging around her.

Hels couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit intimidated as icey-blue eyes stared him down.  
He pushed the sword away from his neck carefully, crawling back a bit, eyes narrowed.

Her eyes had softened ever so slightly as she seemed to take in his eyes, his ears, and the fact that he didn’t look nearly as old as he was, which wasn’t saying much, seeing as he was only fourteen.

“You’re not from Hels City, are you?”

“Says who?” Hels growled, astutely aware of the position of the guards on the alley thirty feet away.

“Says you. Or at least what I can gather from you.” She held out a hand. He opted to stand up on his own.

“And what does that mean to you?”

“You look like you need a place to go. I have somewhere you can stay, if you’d like.”

He nodded curtly, and she smiled, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him in some direction. He wrenched himself out of her grip, deciding go walk next to her.

“And who are you?”

“True Symmetry, at your service.” At this she gave a little half-bow, smile flashing. “You?”

“Hels.”

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “Hels... what?”

“Just Hels.”

She gave up on questioning at his glare. “Edgy. I like it.”

“Why are you trusting me?”

“Because you look like someone honest. Not many people left like you.” She smirked. “Plus, you looked like a lost puppy.”

Hels ignored that comment. “And... where are we going, True of Symmetry?”

“Just True, Hels.”

He glared at the back of her head.

“Shut up and follow my every move. The Emperor’s been trying to find us for decades, and I won’t let it happen now, of all the times.” She looked back at him, smirk gone, before heading on.

He obeyed, following her as she ducked her head and slipped into an alleyway. Glancing towards either end of the alley, True pushed in a brick in the shadowed wall, the wall responding by shifting into an entrance, blocks rearranging Harry Potter style. Suppressing a gasp of awe, Hels followed her in. A goofy grin of childish excitement creeped slowly onto his face as they were met with a small, dimly lit room, nine buttons placed on the far wall. True pushed in the first four buttons, the wall behind them closing and a trapdoor being pulled apart by pistons, the floor opening up.

They fell, deep into a large hallway, landing safely onto a large cushion of sorts.

Hels was floored.

The walls were the same dark blackstone as the city above, but silvery blue flames illuminated the red floor from above, the gorgeous architecture absolutely stunning. Somehow it still held that infamous feeling of dread of the city above. (just think Decked Out lol)

“So why is your super top-secret entrance code 1, 2, 3, 4?” Hels asked, still gaping at his surroundings.

“Eh, it was designed by a nine-year-old. A genius nine-year-old, but he is still just a kid.” True hopped up, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging the awkwardly gaping Hels through the crowd that had accumulated.

“Huh...” Hels managed to say.

“Ey, True, mind introducing the new kid?” Some voice shouted from the back of the room.

True stopped, sighed, and looked over her shoulder, hesitating. She pushed him into the crowd, murmuring a “Good luck” before she disappeared into one of the hallways.

There were only currently around a dozen in the hall, Hels realized, less than he originally thought, most eyeing him nervously.

A hand touched his shoulder and he flinched away, suppressing a yelp.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle ya.” The woman smiled at him, multiple red eyes blinking in greeting.

Hels forced a smile. “Hi...”

She saw right through his facade. “Don’t sweat it, kid. It’s hard for everyone to get used to.” She flipped her red hair over her shoulder, a devious smile on her grey lips. “I’m the one, the only... Cleo! Most everyone calls me Spider, though.” 

Hels nodded, shaking her hand and then turning to find large golden eyes staring into his soul. It would be an understatement to say he was startled.

“Ello!” A short kid was staring up at him, his height and large, innocent (?) eyes making him seem younger than Hels could tell he was. He had scruffy, alarmingly bright, golden hair, a ridiculously large red sweater hanging on his skinny frame. Half feathered wings were fluffed out in excitement, revealing the bat-like membrane that made up the lower half of the wings.

Hels was too startled to utter a greeting in response.

“Mr. Grifter, you know we don’t sneak up on people like that.” Spider’s voice scolded teasingly.

“Oh. Sorry...” The kid tilted his head at Hels. “Who’re you?”

“I’m... Hels.”

“Nice to have ya, Hells,” a seemingly old man greeted. “Welcome to the Underground. I’m CubVex, here to answer any of your questions if ya need ‘em answered.”

Hels nodded slowly, trying to take everything in. “Uh... where’d True go?”

“Probably to go talk to Suma.” A... slime? magma cube? guy piped up. “I’m Gevin, by the way.”

“Suma?” Hels repeated, confused.

“You’ll meet ‘im later.” Spider said.

“You kids better go to bed. Or something. I don’t know.” Cub added. “And don’t you dare grumble about it, Gri.”

Gri grumbled.

Hels just nodded. He was exhausted.

Spider led Hels to one of the hallways, Cub disappearing down the same hallway True did and leaving some guy named Bubbles to try and reason with the small gremlin.

The two walked down the hallway, Spider asking Hels questions and letting him answer, albeit a bit sleepily. They arrived at the bunks, Spider bidding Hels a good night and disappearing into her own bunk on the far side of the room. Hels was barely able to shrug off his bag and sword before curling into the covers.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cameos in abundance...  
> Feel free to ask any questions in the comments, I’ll be glad to answer!


	3. Right time, wrong place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... as I pled my case  
> You’re the Judge, oh no, set me freeEeEEe  
> ...sorry.  
> I swear I’ll find some more diverse quotes for chapter titles
> 
> YES PERSPECTIVE SHIFT I LOVE YOU HELS BUT DEAR GOD I NEED A BREAK FROM ALL THAT ANGST 
> 
> Anyway, I’d whip out my handy-dandy translator if I were you  
> Unless you’re an absolute legend and can actually read galactic

𝙹 ∴ . 

⊣𝙹𝙹↸リᒷᓭᓭ ᒲᒷ, ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣⍑⚍∷ℸ ̣. 

There was no up. 

No down.

No point of reference for any direction whatsoever. 

Just... floating in the abyss, inertia carrying on. 

∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ ᔑᒲ ╎?

Black kept swirling, hints of violet... lavender... indigo... even silver... dancing around in it. 

∴⍑ ᔑ ℸ ̣ ?

Not even the islands far above were visible. 

ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ⎓⚍ᓵꖌ?

The abyss was mesmerizing, hypnotic, even. 

リ 𝙹ℸ ̣ ∷ ᒷᔑ ꖎꖎ ||.

It was dark. Too dark.

∴ ᒷᔑ ꖌꖎ ╎ リ ⊣ .

The voice grew louder.

||𝙹⚍ ꖌリ𝙹∴ ╎ ᓵᔑリ ⍑ᒷᔑ∷ ||𝙹⚍, ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ ?

Too loud, even.

𝙹⍑ ╎ ᓵᔑリ ⊣ᒷℸ ̣ꖎ𝙹⚍↸ᒷ∷, ╎⎓ ||𝙹⚍’↸ ꖎ╎ꖌᒷ.

But it quieted.

And so the story began in full, with the second shortest chapter. 

⍑ ᒷ ⍑ ?

Away from the recesses of the nether, away from the ruthless claws of fate, away from quite possibly the most angsty alter ever. 

╎ ↸⚍リリ𝙹, リ!¡⊣ ᓵ𝙹⚍ꖎ↸ ⊣╎⍊ᒷ ⍑╎ᒲ ᔑ ∷⚍リ ⎓𝙹∷ ⍑╎ᓭ ᒲ𝙹リᒷ||.

Just possibly. It’s still up for debate.

∴⍑𝙹 ᔑ∷ᒷ ||𝙹⚍, ᔑ⊣ᔑ╎リ?

A plot device, nothing more than a narrative tool to introduce you. 

...||𝙹⚍’∷ᒷ ʖᒷ╎リ⊣ ᓵ𝙹リ⎓⚍ᓭ╎リ⊣. ᓭᒷ∷╎𝙹⚍ᓭꖎ||, ∴⍑|| ᓵᔑリ’ℸ ̣╎ ⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣╎リℸ ̣ ∷𝙹↸⚍ᓵᒷ ᒲ||ᓭᒷꖎ⎓?

You will. 

Just you wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah sorry these intro chapters are short  
> I’ll make it up to y’all, I promise
> 
> Yes I spent way too long researching this whole thing by looking back through Diabolical and Episode 666 and Hermitgang...  
> Yes I’m still researching currently  
> No I regret nothing


	4. The Phantom Menace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually steals chapter title from the Disney overlords*  
> *coughs*  
> So let the angst begin...

Three months later 

Underground, Hells City

He woke with a snap. 

He was in a misty place now, the pitch black panels that were the walls glowing a menacing red through the crevices in the plating.

“Ah, hello Hels.” A gravelly British voice echoed in his ears, and Hels spun around to see a hooded figure on a throne, a high throne, one that radiated with power. 

“Who... Who are you?” 

Hels dropped to the ground, some invisible thing forcing him to his knees and pulling him closer to the foot of the throne. He yelped as the force tilted his head up, holding him in place as he struggled.

“Me?” The cackle that echoed around the room made Hels wince, cold fear shivering through his veins. “You shall see, my little padawan. You shall see.” 

Hels looked up at the figure, trying to discern his face from under the hood. “What do you want from me?” 

The cackle came back, and Hels winced again as the fear trickled down his spine. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing, stargazer. The question is, what do you want from me?I’ve got everything you could ever want or need. Power. Protection. Even some chocolates in the front lobby.”

“Where am I?”

“In a dream, of course.”

Hels looked at him in confusion-

-

“Rise and shine, idiot!” 

Hels woke...again?, slower this time, his eyes refusing to open. 

Ah, good lord, he’d overslept again. 

He was usually one of the firsts one up, waking an hour early to patrol with True around the perimeter of the underground, even if he had stayed up extremely late, practicing trap diffusion with Cub and even small kid named Bumbo, sometimes, or honing his swordsmanship with True late into the night, occasionally even being taught some coding by Suma.

He had no excuse this morning. 

“HELS!”

True’s yell was now inches from his ear.

Yelping, he scrambled away, eyes flying open. 

“‘Ello, sleeping beauty.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Hels crawled off the bunk, dropping to the floor. 

“You don’t usually sleep in. You even missed our walk, Hels!”

Hels grumbled in response, groping through the cabinets next to his bunk for some day clothes. 

The dream still had him on edge, though it was slowly fading away from his memory, like all dreams do, yet still leaving the cold grasp of fear haunting him. 

“C’mon, Suma’s already on his twelfth cup, I need you to help me to hide the grounds.” True headed towards the staircase at the end of the hall of bunks. “Gri’s already hidden the mugs, by the way. I’ll wait for you in the main hall, ’kay?” 

As she disappeared from view and he finally found some relatively un-wrinkled clothes, he frowned. Even with his currently groggy mind, he could tell that she didn’t really need him for something as minuscule as that. 

Why did that irritate him a bit? 

Why did she rub him the wrong way, suddenly?

Why did that dream before feel so  real , why did his body still ache from it, WHAT was WRONG WITH HIM?

Pulling on his clothes, he shivered. The fear seemed adamant not to leave him.

He sighed, and trudged after True.

It had been a busy week, different small heists being organized, a vast array of things happening.

Something tugged at the back of his mind, some sort of emptiness just looming over him. It was hard to explain, that feeling of forgetting something important and not being able to do anything about it. 

He brushed it off for the moment, walking into the main room. 

“Oh, look who rose from the dead.” Cub called out, the seemingly older man gesturing Hels over. 

Most of the underground workers that Hels knew were gathered in the middle of the room, just chilling. 

Gri was hanging from a chandelier over them, a whole hoard of mugs next to him as he talked down to the others. True was sitting on the armrest of the couch that two others were lounging on, who Hels had come to know as Imp and Tek. 

Tek’s pure blue eyes were flashing as he came to the climax of a tale he was telling the others, a manic grin spread across his face. Imp was just sitting there eating a bagel, eyes wide as he took in Tek’s story. 

Bumbo was sitting cross-legged on a beanbag chair, listening to the story over a game of Jenga between him and Cub. 

Hels waved sleepily, the fog in his brain starting to clear.

“...and to this day, Worm Man’s ghost still haunts the Emperor and all those who do evil.” Tek finished grandly, Imp adding spooking sound affects around his bagel. 

“Y’know that’s just a kid’s bedtime story, right?” Hels laughed, plopping down on a beanbag chair. 

“It ish nowt!” Imp said, cheeks bulging with bagel. 

“You do have like zero proof that Worm Man existed, though.” Bumbo piped up. 

“Just you wait, I’m gonna make a Worm-Man-resurrect-ificator someday.” Tek frowned. 

Hels rolled his eyes. “So why is Gri hoarding all the mugs?” 

“Suma.” The others answered in unison.

“This coffee thing’s getting unhealthy.” Cub explained. 

“Aaaand since you guys decided to be idiots and say the word,” True muttered, “We have 3... 2... 1-“

“You stole it, didn’t you.”

Hels yelped as the figure materialized in a flurry of purple particles. 

After three months, he still hadn’t gotten used to Suma’s tendency to teleport. He was usually hiding behind the numerous monitors in the humongous library, the red-clad tech guy unusually reclusive. 

Hels had only met the guy two or three times, but he’d never seen him angry. 

Thank god he wasn’t angry. Yet.

“What?” True’s poker face was on, and glancing up nonchalantly, Hels could barely see Gri hiding in the chandelier. 

“Whatcha talking about, Suma?” Tek leaned back into the couch after taking a bagel of his own.

Suma rubbed his temples, sighing. “You all are terrible at lying, goodness me.” 

“No more coffee, Mr. Stridesuma.” True’s facade fell, and she glared at the armor-clad hermit. 

“Well at least I know it was you all, and not the forces of fate or something like that.” Suma pulled up a chair.

“No such thing as fate, my friend.” Cub said, placing another precarious Jenga block. 

Suma snorted. “The Emperor would say otherwise.” 

“And you’re going to listen to that old geezer?” Imp asked, grabbing another bagel. 

“I’m not going to ignore him.” Suma almost snarled, a frown crossing his face. “Have we got any intel on him, yet, True?” 

“Not recently.” True sighed. “The Goatfather’s getting harder and harder to wheedle information out of. The prices he’s demanding are just too far out of our budget.” 

“Next time we can send Llamadad in with you. Perhaps it’ll level the playing field a bit.”

“He’s on a mission with Bubbles to recruit some more for the underground for at least the next month.” 

“Arrgh.” Suma covered his face with his hands. 

“You can go contact them or something, can’t you?” Tek asked.

“Yeah, I think I will.” Suma stood, putting on a helmet that had materialized in his hands. “I need to clear up some code.” 

“Internet’s out for the next hour. They had an outage further into the city.” Cub said, not even sparing a gaze away from the tower of Jenga blocks. 

Suma swore quietly in some foreign language, violet freckles flickering through his visor as he did.

“LanGuAgE!” Gri shouted from the chandelier, earning a few laughs from the others. 

“You could understand that?” Hels asked incredulously. 

“Nope!” 

“Well, imma go and train.” True hopped up. “You coming, Hels?” 

“Yeah, I’m coming.” 

“Suma?” 

“Nah, I have to go organize the mess that are those library desks.” 

“Your loss.” True smirked, and she and Hels left the others to do... something. Whatever the other underground workers did. Hels still wasn’t sure. 

“Two out of three; each round’s over at first blood.” True grabbed her sword out of its sheath at her waist, Hels doing the same. 

“You’re on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this ended up 90% fluff, but eh, y’all are gonna need it.   
> Thank you all so much for the support, by the way!   
> Suggestions for where this could go are more than welcome, as well, ‘cause I’m still only in the last bits of the planning phase.


	5. All the Distractions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exposition...? Idk.  
> Time to break the fourth wall real quick.   
> For like the second time, but wHo’s kEePInG tRAcK?

A long time ago, in a dimension far, far away.

Well, not that far away.

And not that long ago, either. 

I digress.

Did you seriously think this story was just about that mess of that Alternate Dimension?

Ha.

This is a tale full of backstories, my friends. 

Take, for chance, mine. 

One of two brothers, one younger, one older. The closest sibling bond there could be, sure that their perfect life would never be shaken apart. 

Of course, destiny had other plans. 

As you know. 

Voidwalkers are fickle beings, as is their political situation, interests, and honestly just general way of living. If you thought humans were bad.... Ha. I mean, dear Notch, we’ve had about tenfold the revolutions the French have had, and more invasions than the Middle East.

About ten times as gruesome, as well.

If you can guess who I am, or like read the tags or something, you might have an idea of where my story is going. 

I sincerely doubt it, but ten imaginary cookies if you prove me wrong. 

I mean I doubt that you’re that good at guessing or social clues, not that you can’t read. 

I’m not  that heartless. 

Anyway. 

Have a piece of exposition that the author placed here, having barely any idea what she was doing: 

Sheev Renpatine

December eighth of the year two thousand and four

District 77, Hellscape

Your Highness, 

Before you try tracking me, I will tell you uhhh... no. 

That’s not happening. 

Back on topic, I have some valuable information that may come to good use for you and your company. 

I don’t know if it has been brought to your attention, but there are two major gangs in our quaint capital of Hells City. 

The Underground, and the Goatbrothers, led by the Goatfather, who may come to great use if you can actually get your hands on him, which, if my sources have it correct, you should already be well acquainted with him. 

I myself am part of the Underground, if you’d like to know.

I can get you information... for a price. 

And no.

Not even the Goatfather knows of the location of our base. 

Meet my accomplice in a fortnight at the center of District 77 if you wish to hear out my bargain.

Sincerely,

A concerned citizen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dies*  
> Writing alternate dimension cosplayer derps is hard.  
> *resurrects*  
> Anyone have duck tape?   
> My fourth wall’s really flimsy.   
> But uhh, seriously.   
> *nervously eyeing the Mycelium Resistance*  
> *eyes the Underground as well*  
> There’s an imposter among us, my dudes.


	6. Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for some mild cursing and mayyybe gore?   
> Idk it’s not too bad
> 
> #limelichesforthewin

Two years later (13.something years ago)

Hells City, Helscape

“Two out of three; each round’s over at first blood.”

“You’re on.”

Hels ground his heel into the sand of the training area, gripping onto his gold training sword (just... don’t question how that durability lasts) and staring down True. She was staring him down as well, icy eyes ready to catch even the slightest of flinches.

“Ah, taking the hawkeye route again, are we?” Hels taunted, noting warily the unusual use of a bow.

“Depends how hard you hit me.” True snarked back, fingers curling around the taut string and pulling back slowly, arrow loaded.

“Ah.” Hels nodded, rolling his eyes. “Good to know.” The arrow whizzed past his ear, close enough to ruffle the uneven locks tucked around said ear.

“It’s a quote, idiot.”

The two circled each other, pace slightly quicker, Hels raising his sword and True loading another arrow.

“Are we just going to stand here awkwardly?” True asked, pulling the string of her bow taut and parallel to her cheekbone.

Hels didn’t answer, barely registering her comment, running as fast as he could to the wall. Before True could release her arrow, he’d propelled himself off the wall, flipped over her, and skidded to a stop.

True spun around, releasing the arrow, which shot into the roof due to Hels tripping her, and pulled out her axe, swiftly blocking an attempted blow. They held there like that for a few seconds, fighting for control, and then True let go. Before Hels could take a breath her axe was to his neck.

“Yield.” She demanded, face cold and not betraying any weaknesses besides the blooming bruise on her leg where Hels had tripped her up (kicked her, but what’s the difference?).

“Never.” Hels swung his sword hard at her axe, nearly knocking it out of her grip, and backed away into an offensive stance, ready to strike. Scratch that, he did knock it out of her grip.

True scrambled for her axe, her gaze frantic as she tried simultaneously to keep an eye on him and pick back up her weapon. Her hand touched it, and Hels’ sight went red. The world blurred out, and he felt himself race towards her, swinging his sword wildly. He felt the gold connect with something- the cold of metal or the weakness of flesh, he wasn’t sure, but he was thrown back, True blocking every hit he threw at her. Her blurry figure got the upper hand, pushing him back, the axe swinging in mere flashes as she got on the offensive. Strange anger pulsed through him, and he knocked it out of her grip for good now, the gold axe spinning to a stop only on the other side of the arena.

Yet he kept attacking.

Hacking his sword more violently now, he vaguely noticed that she’d switched to using her bow to block his attacks, the sword whittling the wood away quickly.

Someone called his name as he knocked the last of the bow out of her hands.

Something connected with his leg, which hurt, and then he was left with nobody to fight in that red world, the blurry figure that was True having disappeared.

Someone called his name again, closer this time, inside his head, and everything went dark.

—

“Goodness me, what happened?” The strangely familiar voice broke through the darkness, echoing twice through the void.

“... I don’t even know.” Another double voice joined it, one echo strangely guilty and the other one pained, voice breaking.

“This is going a bit too far, guys.” A third chorus joined in, one of the version’s voices smooth and calm, though sounding abnormally worried and stressed, another just angry.

“He-“

“Oh jeez, this isn’t the first time, is it, then?”

“This is the first time something’s happened, ‘Suma.” A fourth joint of echoes joined in, the voices pleading, in a way.

“̶̻̟͓̲̭̭̀̍Ẉ̶͠h̸̙̝̱̽̀̋̃͛̕a̴̧̛̳̫͉͎̅̀͛ẗ̷͕̙̂̈́͘ ̵̨́̆̈́̽͝͝ẇ̸̤̲̯̲̞̺͘a̷͕̅̍̀̿͋͛s̷̨͔̞͔̠̫̒̓̿̚ ̷̤̞͓̒̊i̵̩̘̲̭̅̓̈́̏̓͘t̸̢̫͙̻͚͗̅͋̍̾ ̶̧̳̗̃̏͗͂́s̵̰͙͇̪̍̍̓̔̚ȗ̷͈̳̮͉͗͋͊͆͜͠p̸̫̰̞̫͗ṗ̷̧̖͙̥̉͂͐̌ͅͅo̵̜͖͆̂́̔̑ś̴̢͈̪̆̽̏͆̏͜e̵͔̱̠͙͌̈͝ḑ̶̜͓͎̣̿͌̈́̕ ̷͈̄̇̒͛̕͘t̷̻̩̫͓̔̚ȫ̵̯͕̀́ ̸̻̦̖̤̐̾͑͂d̶͓̘̗̑̔́ͅo̵̧̙͇̰̓͘,̸̺̆̎̐ ̸̱̟̦̉͂̊͛̓B̷̥͖̼̖̼͒̊e̶͔̼̋́̔̄ë̶͍̩́̾͋̓̕f̶̢̧̙͎̿̾̄̕͝͝?̶̲̳̲͌”̴̼͂̅̚ 

“What’s happened, then?”

The voices grew more and more chaotic and conflicting through the void, glitches growing. It was almost claustrophobic, the noise pressing in on all sides...

“Beware, Stargazer...” Something hissed through the void, like it was in his head instead of coming from nowhere like a car radio. He didn’t even notice his ears had been ringing until it was all over, the void flashing sickeningly between it and the darkness behind his eyelids.

“He’s getting more reckless in training, Suma. I don’t think he realizes it... it’s like he’s being possessed or something.”

What the hell... His eyes refused to open, abandoning him to float in that abyss. He wanted to scream, to shout, to wake up, to do something.

But he couldn’t.

Why was it him who was always stuck in situations like this?

Why was he the one with the openly horrible backstory?

Why did the main conflict surround him?

Why?

(It’s called being a protagonist, Hels. Get used to it)

“Like I said, this whole thing is getting out of hand.” Cub’s voice cut through the awkward silence, only making Hels more pissed as his brain refused his demand to wake up fully.

“What should we do, then? I can’t just... stop training with him.”

“You could, but yeah, doesn’t sound like it would end well for you, my friend.”

“We’ve got to talk to him, either way.” Gri’s voice was unnaturally quiet, the serious tone a strange fit for him.

“...Don’t listen to them, padawan. They don’t truly believe in you. They’ll take away your talent, hoard it for themselves...” The voice croaked again.   
  
And with that, his eyes flew open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew so uhh things are finally starting up  
> rEfERenCes aPLenTy  
> now to see what Hels does next... 
> 
> Hope y’all enjoyed!


	7. We’ve made it this far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casually retconning my last Ex chapter...  
> Oh yeah, that was our favorite drama queen if you couldn’t tell.  
> Backstory’ll come later, my dudes, we’ve got some HERMITS to have fun with.  
> Imma just pretend I have this all planned out lol  
> Oh and tw for some cursing I guess.  
> Idk it’s Ex get used to it.

“‘ᔑᒲ ╎ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ 𝙹リꖎ|| 𝙹リᒷ ╎ ꖌリ𝙹∴, ∴ᔑ⊣╎リ⊣ ᒲ|| ∴ᔑ∷ᓭ ʖᒷ⍑╎リ↸ ᒲ|| ⎓ᔑᓵᒷ ᔑリ↸ ᔑʖ𝙹⍊ᒷ ᒲ|| ℸ ̣ ⍑∷𝙹ᔑℸ ̣ ,’” 

He smiled as he sang, swinging his armor-clad legs from his perch on top of the barge.

“‘ᓭ⍑ᔑ↸𝙹∴ᓭ ∴╎ꖎꖎ ᓭᓵ∷ᒷᔑᒲ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣╎’ᒲ ᔑꖎ𝙹リᒷ....’”

It was the perfect spot, under the sunrise. 

Not the sunset, even though he preferred to see the horizon swallow the sun. 

Turns out that sunsets weren’t really a thing with pesky sleep-addicted hermits. 

Eh, well. It was decent enough. 

“‘ʖ⚍ℸ ̣╎ ꖌリ𝙹∴ ∴ᒷ’⍊ᒷ ᒲᔑ↸ᒷ ╎ℸ ̣ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ⎓ᔑ∷... ꖌ╎↸.’”

Ex launched himself off the beam, landing on and sliding down the glass roof as the sun reached the annoying angle where it could hit past his visor’s protective tint. 

‘“|| ᒷᔑ ⍑ , || ᒷᔑ ⍑ , || ᒷᔑ ⍑ ...’”

Pretending not to notice the judgmental sheep giving him  that look through some shades, he continued down the stone road, singing as loud as was physically safe. 

Thank Notch the hermits were either off in their different bases or off-world. 

Well, only two of them were off-world, from what Ex could remember, but whatever. 

Lost in thought, he nearly tripped over a dog.

He, admittedly, screeched.

“The void are you doing there, furball?” 

The dog, of course, just gave him some puppy eyes through some sort of gas mask.

“Isn’t that Joe guy supposed to be taking care of mutts like you?” Ex asked, bending down to give the thing a chin scratch. 

The mutt didn’t answer, of course, but just leaned into the scratch. 

Ex sighed, confused as heck. 

“HERMIIIIIIT CHALLENGESSSSSSSSS....!!!”

And the voidling screeched yet again, instinctively curling himself around the mutt as something crashed into him, tumbled through the noticeboard behind them, and landed in the bushes. 

A second passed. 

Then two seconds. 

At three seconds Ex deemed in safe enough to look up and investigate the source of the yodeling bomber plane. 

The mutt exchanged a nervous glance with Ex and then gave its most intimidating bark. (It wasn’t very intimidating, but it tried.) 

“INITIATIONNNNNN......” A leaf-covered head slowly emerged from the bushes, blue eye shining dangerously. 

Ex may or may not have screeched in fear for the third time that morning. 

The head burst out laughing. 

The mutt barked half-heartedly, absolutely bamboozled.

“Dude!” The figure who Ex now recognized as Iskall crawled out of the bushes, laughing hysterically, leaves fluttering to the ground, a few staying stuck in the swede’s hair. “The look on your face... absolutely priceless. Priceless, my dude.”

Ex snorted, straightening up and picking up the mutt. 

“Oh wow.” Iskall smirked as Ex pet the dog. “Never thought I’d see the day where the mighty ExanthusVoid got a pet dog.” 

“Shut up.” Ex growled, unsnapping the gas mask and suit off the mutt. It wagged its tail gratefully.

“Have you named it yet, my dude?” 

“I literally just found it here before you bulldozed us over, Iskall.” He picked the dog up and carried it over to the Nether portal, the Swede racing to keep up with him. 

“Oh... sorry ‘bout that.” 

“No problem.” Ex huffed sarcastically as they walked down the Hyperlink. 

“Well, are you going to name it?” 

The dog blepped, chocolatey eyes shining at Ex. 

He resisted the urge to scream. “Well, do y’ have any suggestions?” 

“Ah...” The Swede contemplated the question, pacing back and forth. “Timmy? How about Little Timmy?” 

_I’m too tired for this_ . “No, absolutely not.” 

“Floof.” 

“The hell of a sort of name is  that ?”

“Gerald.”

“Fuck no.” 

“Dorothy.” 

“Just no.”

“Jeremy.” 

“Nope.” 

“Polly.” 

“No.” 

“Lucy.” 

“No.” 

“Peter.” 

“No.” 

“Edmund.” 

“You’re just spitting out names from Narnia, aren’t you?” 

“Maybe. Erm... it looks like a Donut, if I’m being honest.” 

“I am  not naming this  mutt ‘Donut’, Iskall.” 

“Truffle?” 

The dog perked up, its tongue sticking out in the cutest way possible. 

“Fine. She seems to like it.” 

Iskall cheered. “So can I tell X about this?” 

“If you do I’ll kill you.” 

“Welp, okay then.” 

Ex huffed, setting Truffle down and letting her follow along at his side. The three walked in silence for a few minutes down the dark hallway, the skeleton of Ren’s nether base coming into view. 

“Where do you even live, bro?” 

“Scar’s village.” Ex answered shortly. “Village of misfit magical creatures, amirite?” 

Iskall was quiet for a second, clearly crunching some numbers mentally. “How long have you been on the server, dude? Zizuma hasn’t mentioned anything.” 

Ex snorted. “X doesn’t know. I have a streak of nearly two weeks without any interaction with the floofy bee man, and I intend to keep that streak.” 

“Sounds lonely.” 

“Jellie keeps me company. It’s not too bad.” 

“Does Scar know?” 

“Probably. He hasn’t confronted me about it, but then again he seems pretty busy dealing with all those judgmental sheep.” 

Iskall burst out laughing. “Yeah, the Mycelium War’s starting up.” 

“Is that what this is about?” 

“Yeah, yeah it is, my dude.” The Swede continued the hysterical laughter.

“Oh wow.” Ex smirked. It wouldn’t be the dumbest thing that the hermits had had conflict over. “You on a side?” 

“Nah bro. I’ve got the Omega Tree to finish... other projects... heck, I might even get to visit Dream SMP. I dunno, dude, it’s busy.” 

Ex laughed. “The Dream SMP server? How’d you get yourself into that shit show?” 

“Fundy needed some redstone help... I dunno. We’ll see.” 

“Prank the child for me, would ya? If you get there before I do.” 

“The child?” 

“You’ll know him when you see the bastard.” 

“...okay then.” 

The two of them (plus Truffle) reached Iskall’s portal, stepping through into the swirls of violet void.

“Uggh... I’ll never get used to that.” Ex huffed, stepping carefully and a bit nauseously into the giant Omega Tree out of the portal.

“None of us will, my dude.” In a flurry of rockets, Iskall launched into the air. Ex hummed in agreement, summoned his wings, picked up Truffle, and followed the Swede. 

Some time later, they reached the  cult arena Hermit Challenges platform, both of them nearly dying as they crashed into the bushes. 

Iskall groaned. 

Setting down Truffle gently, Ex climbed out of the bushes, rubbing his wrist, which had taken the brunt of the crash. “So how does this work?”

“Erm... I really don’t remember.” Iskall limped over to a dispenser, rummaging around inside it. “Here. Eat the cookie.” 

“Okay...?” Ex took the cookie, vaguely pleased that it was chocolate chocolate chip. 

“Eat the cookie... Uh....” Iskall’s brows furrowed. “Oh! I think... yeah, dude, then punch out the fire and ring the bell.” 

Ex hesitantly did as he was asked. 

“And then we come up with three challenges for each other!” 

“Yay?” 

Iskall snorted, and the two of them proceeded to write out the challenges and place them into the dispenser.

“....And now we press the buttons!” 

Ex shrugged and pressed said button, watching as a slip of paper was spat out. 

Behind him, the Swede was laughing hysterically at his own challenge. “Dude, imma go do that now. A gridubs head on Omega Street? Heck yeah. See ya around, Ex!” 

And so Ex stood there, shellshocked and barely taking note of Iskall’s departure. 

The paper in his hand felt like lead, weighing him down.

Iskall surely didn’t know Galactic, right?

Surely not. 

So who else would know? 

He knew X, of course, did. 

Joe was studying it, from what he remembered. 

Tango might know some, but Ex wasn’t sure if Galactic was spoken in the Nether.

Mumbo knew some crude phrases...

Cub probably had picked some up along the years...

Etho could only read it...

And Grian knew it fluently.

But none of them knew he was on the server...

It was probably nothing. 

He was just overreacting, right? 

Right. 

Ex yawned. 

That’s all this was. He was tired. 

His brain was more vulnerable to hallucinations. 

It was fine. 

All of this was fine. 

And so the voidling trekked back to the Village with Truffle, reaching the cottage high in the trees that he was occupying, and sighed. 

It was all fine. 

The paper fell to the ground, and Ex flopped down to lay eagle-spread on the comforter, consumed in his thoughts. 

If he’d payed attention, he would have seen a silhouette of a cat come in the ever-darkening room. 

If he’d payed attention, he would have seen it read the slip of paper hastily, and then snatch it up. 

If he’d payed attention, he would have seen the grey-and-white feline run like the speed of light for her owner, green eyes large with fear at the note in her mouth. 

Perhaps it’s better that he didn’t. 

Only time will tell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew.  
> This was one of those writing sessions where I was just like possessed or something. So... It’s longer than normal! Yay!  
> Hmmm I wonder what the paper says.  
> If this helps, it has to be less than 16 characters.  
> That didn’t help much.  
> Eh, well.  
> Hope y’all have a great day/night!  
> Oh and I’ll change the description at 10 chapters, just be warned.


	8. We’re on the right side of history... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter that just slapped me and my plans in the face and laughed.  
> Sorry for the short chapter, btw, I just wanted to get this out here before I tinkered with it too much.  
> I decided with this that imma split some of my aspirations for this story into a separate one focusing on Ex and the Watchers.  
> Hopefully.  
> Idk we’ll see.

The deity sighed, setting down the stone that she was sharpening her sword with. “I still think it’s a rubbish idea, Hero. Letting a glitched world go like that? Nothing good can come of this decision.” 

The deity sitting next to her rubbed his temples. His beard was scraggly, and his dark hair was long, curls floating around his shoulders, a completely foreign look on him. “I really don’t know what to say, brother.”

“Listen, I know what I’m doing, you idiots.” A third deity snapped, stopping his pacing to give her his blank glare. “I’m supposed to be in charge of destruction, for Notch’s sake!” 

“But...” 

“Do you trust me, Alexandra?” 

“Of course, but-“

“I can’t kill these players.” His voice was quiet, but menacing, a growl edging it. “We’ve let it go this far. At this point, they’re not  copies , idiots, they’re their own people. We have to just monitor it. Maybe we can send a Watcher to check over it or something.” 

“And do we know what caused it? The glitch, I mean.” The second deity asked, his violet eyes half annoyed, half sympathetic. 

“One of the players on the brothers’ world decided it would be a  great idea to make a duplication device.” The third deity sighed, slumping into a chair.

The second deity snorted. “Of course they did.” 

“Always pushing the limits, those fools.” The first deity stood, tying her fiery hair back into a ponytail, the strands floating as if she were underwater, and moving to pour herself a large glass of vodka. 

“Pour me some, please.” The third deity pleaded. 

“Oh, wonder, you finally decide to use fancy big boy words.” The second deity smirked. 

“Shut up.” 

“Play nice, boys.” The first deity handed the third his glass, than downed hers in nearly one gulp. 

The second deity frowned. “So what do you propose we do about it, then, Hero?” 

“Like I said, if you’d been  listening , we could send a watcher. I don’t know who, though.” 

“One problem, my brothers. They would need to be whitelisted to the world.” 

“I would think that the watchers have strong enough magic to do that?” 

“The watchers just have extensions of our powers, Steve.” The third deity knocked his glass back, then continued on. “And I don’t see Alex over here editing whitelists.” 

“Well, that’s pretty damn inconvenient to our scheme.” 

“You’re telling me.” The first deity groaned. “Just typical of me that I had to make it secure enough that even I wouldn’t hold the proficiency to change the code.”

“And when exactly was this... glitched... world created?” 

“A few months back.” The third deity responded, glowing white eyes narrowed in worry as he scratched at his stubble. “Around the time of the update. It’s too late to just destroy it. The glitched players will think they’ve been in that world for decades, by now.” 

“And-“ 

“No, Exan’s brother only approached me about this recently.” 

“Why not sooner?” 

“You forget who I am, brother.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” The third deity stood up, lifting the hood of his jacket over his head. The crown perched elegantly on his black hair glinted as he did so, and the first deity found herself wondering when he’d started wearing it again. She and the second deity had worn theirs for years now. 

“Are you bidding us farewell?” She asked. “So soon?” 

“I have a meeting with the Watchers. Jens wanted to discuss some aspects of the next update.” 

“Well, see you on the morrow, then.” 

“See ya.” The third deity saluted in his usual cocky manner, than fell out of the window. 

She could see his winged form fly away through the crystal sky, away from the Hub’s castle and down into the Deep End.

“You think we will be capable of solving this dilemma?” The second deity asked, holding tight to the royal cape wrapped around him. 

“I’m sure of it” She smiled. “When he ever let us down?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eheheheheh.  
> Oh, and thank you so much to all of the wonderful people who have commented!  
> All of you really make my day.  
> Have some swedish fishies!  
> *yeets whole bags of pale colored fishies at you all* 
> 
> I wonder what Jellie’s doing?


	9. Guess you could blame it on my left side brain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *yeets left over m’n’ms at you all*   
> Another short one lol  
> I promise things’ll speed up soon  
> I hope

13.? years ago

Hells City, Hellscape

“Oh, good Notch!” 

Started yelps sounded from the people around him, and something that sounded likea coffee cup hit the ground.

Hels sat there, blinking for a moment, trying to get his eyes to focus. 

True was sitting on the end of the bed he was laying on, wrapped in a blanket and holding a mug between her hands. Gri was perched on a cabinet, eyes dark with anxiety. Suma was sitting in a chair not far away from them, and was currently mopping up the expresso that he’d just spilled. Cub was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed tightly.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Helsknight.” Cub smiled, but it was tense. Forced, even.

Hels brushed that thought aside. “W... what happened?” 

He ignored the nervous glance the others shared, and sat up straighter, wincing at the shooting pain in his leg. Pushing his blankets aside, he finally noticed the thick cast his leg was cased in. 

“What happened?” He winced internally at the voice crack as his tone went low for his repeated question. 

“Erm....” Gri shifted uncomfortably on top of the cabinet. 

“What do you last remember, Hels?” Suma asked quietly, almost dangerously. 

He hesitated. “Uh... training. We were training.”

“...and?” 

“And then something happened? I was winning... I don’t remember what happened exactly. Everything’s so fuzzy.” 

“You don’t remember  anything ?” Cub’s voice was incredulous, and Hels could pick out the hidden strands of anger the vex was all too quick to suppress. 

“I never said that.” Hels growled. “It’s just too fuzzy and confusing to remember anything beyond what I said.” 

He tried to ignore the second shared glance between the others, but fury burned through his veins, and he just... couldn’t. He settled for glaring at them. 

“This happens too often.” Gri muttered. 

“It doesn’t happen  that often!” Hels burst out.

“So you  do remember it.” Cub growled accusingly. 

“And this shouldn’t  ever happen, Hels.” Suma deadpanned through the dark visor. “You nearly killed True, for goodness’ sake!” 

Hels spared a glance at his friend, who was unnaturally quiet. Even with the blanket she was wrapped in, he could still see the bandages wrapped around her torso and the long, thin, bloody cut that crossed her nose and down her cheek. Her gaze was adverted, and the cold fire was gone from her eyes. 

He was surprised at how quickly she was broken. How much had he hurt her? 

He almost snorted. She was the captain of the Resistance. 

And she was shattered just by a training incident gone wrong? 

Pathetic. 

NO. 

Bad Hels. 

Bad. 

She was his friend! The one and only person who’d never left him, never betrayed him, never hurt him. 

Right? 

She wouldn’t leave him like his family. Like everyone he’d ever cared about. 

_ You keep trying to convince yourself this, stargazer. _

She wouldn’t do that. None of them would. 

He wouldn’t  _ let _ them do that.

“Hels?” Gri’s wary voice broke through his thoughts. 

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He growled, brain instinctively going to the defensive. “It won’t happen again. I promise.” 

“I’m holding you to that, Hels.” Suma sighed. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I have some work to get done.” 

Hels watched in silence as the others nodded, giving quiet farewells as he left. 

“You’ll regret it if this happens again, kid.” Cub growled, completely devoid of his normal warmth and friendliness. He turned on his heel and followed Suma out the door, his wings’ glow disappearing with him. 

Gri’s wings twitched anxiously, catching Hels’ eye. Why was his friend worried? 

About him? About what he’d done? Could he tell what Hels was thinking? Could he see the void of fear clawing in his chest that they’d all desert him for this mistake? The overwhelming paranoia drowning him? Could he-

“Hels?” Another voice broke through his thoughts. 

“What?” He snapped, immediately regretting it as both Gri and True flinched. 

“Why’d you do it?” True’s voice was quiet. 

He stared at her, unable to respond. 

“You didn’t stop.” Her voice grew louder with uncharacteristic hysteria. “You didn’t stop fighting. You just kept going, kept looking to spill more blood.” 

Hels lowered his gaze, silence still binding him. 

“I had to knock you out.” Gri’s voice was low and serious, desperately trying to conceal the faint fear and anger that Hels could just barely pick out. “You were really scary, Hels.” 

He pushed away the parts of him marveling with joy at the adjective, trying to come up with something to say. 

“Oh.” was all that came out. 

Nothing else came out of his mouth for the next few hours. 

True and Gri left at some point, the latter fluttering around and trying to help True walk out somewhat stably. 

He just sat there, the dull pain nothing compared to the torturous circles his mind was running in. 

Nobody came to check in on him. 

He didn’t blame them. 

But that didn’t stop his brain from drowning in paranoia and anxiety. 

He couldn’t ever let them leave him. 

Because that would mean he would be alone. 

_All alone_ . 

forever. 

alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big oof, Hels.   
> I miss the wholesome bean he once was ;-;   
> Or was he ever?   
> Who knows.   
> Anyways, next chapter’ll be from Scar’s POV so hype for that


	10. When I was Older

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew this was a workout to get out in time  
> hope y’all enjoy...

“What  is it , Jellie?” Scar swatted his cat off his head for the fiftieth time, grumbling. Trying to build a whole factory with a cat on your head wasn’t the most fun thing in the world. 

She trilled yet again, and he finally noticed the slip of paper in her mouth. 

“Oh.” 

He took it and unfolded it. “Galactic?” Scar looked up at Jellie, who just mewed and disappeared into the shadows. Somehow. He still didn’t know how she did it. 

Readjusting his monocle, he sat down on a shulker, thinking. 

The paper had a splotch of mud on it, so it wouldn’t have come from a clean hermit. That ruled out a good portion of them. 

It also had a faint redstone stain on one corner. So it probably came from Mumbo, or one of the moustachioed man’s inventions. 

He started to walk to the shopping district portal.

Reaching into the note with the mage powers that he’d abandoned for the past few months, he could feel heat... and humidity... and joy. 

And if he reached further, he could see leaf-dappled stone bricks and... jungle signs. 

Definitely Mumbo. 

So it came from hermit challenges. 

That made sense. 

So why was it Galactic? Neither Mumbo nor Iskall knew it, as far as he remembered. 

He stepped into the portal, holding his eyes shut as to not get dizzy from the violet swirls.

Stepping out again into the heat of the Nether, he checked his communicator. Ah. X had just gone AFK. 

Hmmm. So that left the pesky bird. 

He jogged down the hyperlink, unwilling to risk flying while checking back through the chat.

** <Iskall85> mUmbO  **

** <Mumbo Jumbo> What is it, Iskall. **

** <Iskall85> what do you call a two-headed snake?  **

** <Grian> a disappointment.  **

** <Iskall85> well, yes, but no **

** <Mumbo Jumbo> What do you call a two-headed snake, Iskall?  **

** <RentheDog> what  do you call a two-headed snake? **

** <Keralis1> good questions. **

** <GoodTimeWithScar> Voldemort?  **

** <Grian> but was he ever a snake?  **

** <GoodTimeWithScar> hmmm I don’t actually know  **

** <TangoTek> not technically, I don’t think  **

** <Grian> he might still count, though.  **

** <Grian> ISKALL **

** <Grian> ANSWER US **

** <TangoTek> ISKALL **

** <RentheDog> ISKALL **

** <GoodTimeWithScar> ISKALL **

** <Mumbo Jumbo> Iskall?  **

** <TangoTek> you have to say it with more gusto, mumbo  **

** <Grian> yeah, mumbo  **

** <Grian> ISKALL **

** <Mumbo Jumbo> ISKALL? **

** <TangoTek> better.  **

** <Grian> just by a bit.  **

< **Keralis1 > are we all screaming at iskall now? **

** <Grian> yes **

** <TangoTek> yup **

** <RentheDog> yes **

** <Mumbo Jumbo> apparently?  **

** <BdoubleO100> ooh **

** <BdoubleO100> ISKALL **

** <Keralis1> ISKALL **

< **Xisuma > oh jeez**

** <Xisuma> what have you started, Iskall?  **

** <TangoTek> oh hi X **

** <Grian> we want to find out what to call a two-headed snake **

** <RentheDog> and iskall won’t tell us **

** <Xisuma> I guess that’s a decent reason to spam Iskall in the chat **

** <Xisuma> but **

** <Xisuma> @Iskall85  **

** <Xisuma> we can do that.  **

** <Grian> gasp **

** <Mumbo Jumbo> I’m not sure whether to sign in relief or cower in fear **

** <RentheDog> i’d do both if I were you.  **

** <Iskall85> whom hath pinged me **

** <Xisuma> yours truly **

** <TangoTek> what’s a two-headed snake called, Iskall?  **

** <Grian> tell us **

** <RentheDog> we’re dying to know **

** <Iskall85> oh I don’t remember lol **

** <TangoTek> NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO **

** <RentheDog> NO ISKALL **

** <Mumbo Jumbo> WHY ISKALL?!? **

** <Iskall85> lol **

** <Xisuma> Grian?  **

** <Xisuma> oh no **

** <TangoTek> so you have chosen death, Iskall.  **

** <RentheDog> worse than death **

** <Mumbo Jumbo> much worse **

** <FalseSymmetry> never mess with the Dreamslayer **

** <TangoTek> never.  **

** <Renthedog> never ever.  **

** <Grian> NOOOOOOOOOOO **

** <Grian> anyway **

** <TangoTek> ... **

** <TangoTek> am i the only one confused? **

** <Mumbo Jumbo> how can you move on so fast from something so life-shattering?  **

** <RentheDog> it truly was heartbreaking ;-; **

** <Grian> because I found out that llamas despise dogs  **

** <Grian> to the point of killing them **

** <RentheDog> le gasp **

** <RentheDog> this shifts all of our previous findings cataclysmically **

** <TangoTek> beware, you mycelium-loving scum. **

** <Grian> who?  **

** <RentheDog> the llama glama could be used to exterminate the canis lupus roaming the cowmercial district... this is exponentially fascinating... **

** <Grian> Ren **

** <RentheDog> yea?  **

** <Grian> you’re making us look really sus.  **

** <RentheDog> oops **

... and then shooting out his own message. 

** <GoodTimeWithScar> hey G, you got a moment?  **

** <Grian> YES **

** <Grian> yes I do. **

** <Grian> what do you need?  **

** <GoodTimeWithScar> meet you at your mansion?  **

** <Grian> sure **

Scar stepped into his portal, mind too focused on the note clutched in his hand for his brain to register the entirety of the chat’s conversation. 

He stepped out and spread his elytra, and after firing off a few rockets, he frowned.

Who the heck would leave a note with galactic? 

And where did Jellie get it? 

Perhaps his village?

But how?

He’d been so busy trying to rat out the resistance that he hadn’t had time to check up on it in a while. The last time he’d been there was to do a photo shoot, and even then he hadn’t checked up on the villagers too well. 

Too caught up in his thoughts, Scar crashed into the giant door of the jangler’s mansion. 

Owww.

“Well, that sure was an entrance.”

Scar looked up painfully to see a familiar red-clad avian smirk at him. He let Grian drag him to his feet. “Hey, it’s not my fault your door was in the way.” 

“And how long has that door been there?”

Scar smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Most of the season?” 

The architect laughed. “What did you need me for, Scar?” 

“Oh!” The mayor handed the slip of paper to him. “I was wondering if you could translate this? Jellie gave it to me.” 

Grian went silent for a moment, staring at the piece of paper, and Scar could have sworn his friend’s dark blue eyes flashed purple. 

“‘ᒲᔑ∷ℸ ̣ ╎リᓭℸ ̣ ᔑ⊣ リ╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣. ʖᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ. ||𝙹⚍ ꖌリ𝙹∴ ∴⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ’?” He looked up. “Scar, where did Jellie get this?” 

“I really don’t know. I mean, I guess she could have picked it up in the shopping district, but she knows how to teleport, which means she could have been anywhere, but she’s been hanging out in the village for about the past week, so probably there, but I really don’t know, but maybe-“

“Scar.” Grian interrupted. “Have you been in the village recently?” 

“Uhh.. No.” 

“Well, let’s go, then!” He started dragging Scar down the stairs of his mansion, towards the ex-wizard’s village. 

Scar just let out a yelp. 

-

_ The dreamscape was dark and quiet... almost too quiet. It was too much like the void for his taste.  _

_...It was exactly like the void, on second thought.  _

_ He wasn’t asleep, was he.  _

_ He tried to right himself in the midst of the oblivion, but failed. His legs were shaking, and the void seemed to want to keep him from standing upright.  _

_ Summoning his magic, all that came from his fingertips were the magenta glitches that had replaced his powers for a few years.  _

_ What?  _

_ That wasn’t right.  _

_ He tried to summon a portal, but the force of the glitches sent him spinning back.  _

_ Flailing and trying to stop his inertia, he only managed to create more magenta flickers, the tears in reality only growing as his fear and panic grew. _

_ Hot tears streaked down his cheeks as fear overwhelmed him.  _

_ Was he stuck here forever? _

_ And then he was out of the void. He was still crying, but anger had replaced his fear.  _

_ He was shouting, the glitches modifying his voice.  _

_ He was shouting at his brother.  _

_...who was looking rather guilty.  _

_ And who tried to reason with him, but he was beyond reasoning. He was angry, he was hurt, and worst of all, he was scared of going back there. Back to the void. Back where he’d be left for another year or two, until he stored up enough energy to escape.  _

_ Back where his brother had left him to die.  _

_ But flash of bright red filled his vision, red eyes staring him down, blackstone lining the walls, and smoke and ash filling his lungs, choking him... where the hell was his helmet? _

_ He suddenly fell to the ground, clutching the knife protruding from his chest, mouth agape in pain and shock.  _

_ Someone’s heavy boot was pressing into his side. _

_ His heartbeat was irregular and way too fast to be safe.  _

And Ex sat up with a shuddering breath, his helmet beeping at him. 

Oh. 

He’d fallen asleep with it on. Typical. 

He rolled out of the mess of blankets, not even bothering to make the bed. His dream still hovered in the back of his mind. 

He ignored it. 

Those dreams had haunted him for years, that fear of the void strong enough to spill into his dreamscape. 

Sighing, he left Truffle to sleep a while longer and exited his cottage, starting the tedious climb he made every morning to the top of the highest of Scar’s terraformed trees. Sure, he could fly. But that was lame, and, anyways, he didn’t want any chance of being caught by any of the hermits. The only times he ever risked going to the shopping district were those times when he’d made sure no hermits were there. Of course, that was never completely foolproof with complete wildcards such as Iskall. 

Ex reached the top and took off his helmet, holding his breath as not to choke on the overwhelming sting of the overworld’s air. The morning was incredibly bright, so different and colorful than his usual tinted view of the world. His feeling for auras was expanded as well, overwhelming magic signatures growing. His helmet usually blocked the brunt of it, as it was extremely distracting in the already bright and over-stimulating overworld. 

Sometimes, being a voidwalker was  rough .

Especially in a village so magic-packed that normal players could feel the pure energy of it, it was helpful to have the helmet to block it. He put it back on though, as to not fucking die from lack of oxygen. 

He took off into the open blue sky, wings carrying high above the clouds. 

He’d been contemplating the note he’d found, and had finally realized what it had meant. 

Jeez, sometimes he was more of a derp than X. 

It still worried him, though, what the deity needed from him enough to have an impromptu meeting. 

-

“Scar!” 

Scar looked up from the chest he was sorting through. 

He and Grian had been at this for a good half hour, the architect fluttering around anxiously, while Scar had taken to combing meticulously through the entire village. 

“I found something.” His friend’s muffled voice came from one of the cottages sitting in the far corner of the village. 

“What is it?” Scar jogged over, finding Grian sitting on the bed of the cottage, which was an unmade mess, petting a pure-white spaniel curled in the blankets. “A dog?” 

“Yeah.  Some idiot obviously’s been staying here.” The architect nodded at the extra armor piled against the wall next to a magenta shulker box, the fingerless gloves laying on a side table, and the obviously un-made bed. 

Scar walked over to the gloves, picking up one. “These look like X’s...” 

The dog suddenly caught his eye, and she tilted her head, her eyes looking rather familiar. 

“You think Ex’s staying here?” Scar asked, setting down the gloves.

“Can’t you feel the magic.” 

“...Now that you mention it, yeah.” 

Grian unfolded the note again, one of hands still busy petting the spaniel. “Anyways, Scar, do you remember when Martinstag is?” 

“Martinstag?” Scar echoed, his brain whirring. “Oh! Tomorrow, right? Doc was talking about going and celebrating it in the Hub. Apparently they go all-out there?” 

Grian laughed. “Well, the Hub is known for going all-out with holidays.” 

“Why?” Scar asked. 

“Because that’s what this says. ‘Martinstag night. Be there. You know where’.” 

“So, you think that Ex is up to something?” 

“No, I think he’s being dragged into something bigger than he can handle.” Grian left the dog, heading to the door. 

Scar watched him, surprised at the level of seriousness in his voice.

“And that’s what scares me, Scar.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hear one of you stole all the Swedish fish.   
> *yeets more swedish fish and various candies at you all*  
> To clear some things up about Truffle, in this world the pets are affected by their owner’s appearance. Sometimes just with their eye color, sometimes with them being full on albino.


	11. Here we are, don’t turn away now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FESTIVALS!  
> no, not that kind.  
> The good kind lol.  
> Or...?

Ex looked around in wonder at his surroundings, suddenly grateful that his helmet covered the goofy grin stuck on his face. 

The Hub was alight with celebration, fireworks exploding high above in the darkened sky, their multicolored glow splattered across the city. Reds and blues flickered away, and Ex could almost swear he heard monotone laughter somewhere among the glorious chaos. 

People littered the streets, cheers and laughter ringing in the air. It was so incredibly diverse and chaotic, and Ex marveled in the wonder of it all. Lanterns hung from doorposts and sticks that some people in the crowd held.... candles flickered in windows... 

It seemed like everyone wanted to get in on the celebrations. 

Ex dropped a few coins into the hand of one dealer, taking his hot chocolate into his gloved hands and allowing himself a genuine smile. His cloak trailed after him, and he lowered his hood as he escaped the crowd and ignored familiar auras. 

Music started to go upbeat somewhere, and he recognized the familiar tunes of Jono, Ely, and Wilbur, who seemed to all be putting on a show together for the crowd.

Ex made his way up to a balcony, slumping into a chair and pulling off his helmet. It was so much  brighter without it, and he blinked, trying to adjust to the chaotic light levels and picking up on some conversations from below.

He did have half an hour to spare, until his meeting, anyhow.

“And so  then , he just jumped through the portal, and  BOOM !” 

“And where is she, then?” 

“Oh, sleeping in Larry. She really doesn’t like fireworks.” 

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT PARKOUR?” 

“Still can’t believe you blew it all up.” 

“And MCC 12 is ...when?” 

“This Saturday, I think...” 

“And is it true that the Blade’s not in it?” 

“RIP Matilda ;-;”

“BOO!” 

“Halloween was two Fridays ago, moron.” 

“Or was it?”

“Stonks.”

Smirking, Ex sipped on his hot cocoa. 

He wished it could last this way forever. 

Everyone seemed so,  so happy. For once, the chaos level was stable, not too much but not too little, either.

It was perfect.

-

He landed with a thump on top of the highest tower in the hub, the Mojang tower, where his update team worked tirelessly. Feeling around for the edge, he sat down, his legs dangling high above the city he knew was below. 

Music and laughter reached his ears, and he smiled. When the players were happy, everything felt right. 

Even if it was just a facade. 

He never ended up traveling to the deep end. Anything to keep his plans out of his sibling’s hands as long as possible. He had no meeting with the Mojang team, either, as Jens had pushed it back a few days.

He just had a meeting with the cursed one in less than five minutes, and less than five minutes to think over his guilt. 

The guilt that never truly went away. 

How could it? Being a creature with even vague foresight constantly kept him on his toes, constantly kept him wanting to tell his siblings and the rest of the world a warning for what was to come. 

Or what had already come, and was just lurking in the shadows for the right time to strike. 

He sighed. Sometimes this felt like more of a curse rather than a blessing. 

“You wanted to talk to me?” A familiar voice, accented and sounding exhausted, caught his attention.

Ah. 

He’d been to caught up in his thoughts to notice the voidwalker’s landing behind him. Then again, their kind were excellent at being particularly stealthy. 

He stood up for formalities, letting a serious smile slide onto his face. 

“Ex. You going good?

“Yeah, I’m good.” The voidkind’s voice was tense. Worried. 

“Here, sit.” 

They both sat, perched precariously on the edge of the tower.  Oh, dear Notch. This is when it all starts.

“Have you ever heard of glitched worlds?”

“Yeah, X and I learned about them in school.” The voidkind responded quietly, nervously scratching at the paint on his armband. 

“Well, then, you should know that they’re formed when a watcher with powers such as yours and a powerful magical event have power surges at roughly the same time, duplicating whatever world they occupy in two.” He smirked. “And that only I have access to their whitelists.”

“And how did you find this out, exactly?” 

He snorted. “It’s one of those things I was just created knowing.” 

“....and you want me to go... destroy this fucking thing.”

“Exactly.” He stood. “Well, investigate. Find out what they’re up to.”

“You said  I created this thing?” 

“Perhaps one of your left-over glitches that didn’t render in until then. You  did try to destroy your brother’s server once, voidling.” 

“Three or four times, actually.” The voidwalker’s wince of regret was painfully apparent in his voice.

“Anyway. You’ll know when you have to leave.”

“...Do you know when that is?” 

He sighed. “If I tell you, it won’t happen.” 

“What won’t happen?” The voidling’s voice rose in concern. 

“Just... just activate your power. We have to get you going.”

The nervous power signature activated, and he felt the glitches’ magenta aura flicker around them. Reciting the words he’d known from the moment he came into existence, he added his magic to the voidwalker’s, his own power signature a dark, royal purple. 

The swirls of a portal opened in between them, its gravity trying to pull them in. 

He heard the voidwalker step back. 

“Contact me if anything bad happens.” He said, letting concern slip into his voice. “And do not,  do not , forget to note down everything that could come in handy. And please be safe, Ex. I don’t want to mess with angry hermits.” 

“In promise I will.” The voidwalker’s voice shook, and it was oddly sincere, not a trace of his usual snark or mischief in it.

“Ready?” 

“Ready.” And the voidwalker stepped though, his power signature fading away, portal disappearing with a snap, and leaving nothing but a concerned deity, standing alone above the partying city. 

He sighed. 

He hoped he’d made the right call about this. 

He knew what was going to happen. 

There was no way to escape it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment, i beg of you ;-;  
> Thank you so much to the people that have been!  
> The war of the pale colored fishies commences.   
> *machine guns you all down with swedish fish*


	12. There’s no point in fighting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d make a joke but I really can’t think of one atm

1̵͇̦̻͇̖̯̹͙͈̯̦̟̙̖̥̀̅̎̈̅̀̓̈́̑̍͛2̵̄̄̔̊͂͛̇͂́͂͂̕̕͠͝ͅ ̵̝̜͚̘̭͚̿̈ͅy̵̢̧̳̟̗̳͚̯̳͓̳̆̊̉͌͋̉̆e̸̮͎̯̪̪͑̊̾̿̈́̉͘̚̕͜͝a̸͉̠̭̩̖̻̅ͅṛ̴̭͈͈̯͎͚̯͙͉̞̂͝ś̶̭̺̗͇̩͇̹̤̪͔͖̔̿͂̇̅̇̉́̈́̈́͑̌̕ ̴̧͍̫͚͉̟̠͇̲̮̓͂̆̄͂̀a̴̳̱̝̳̜̔͂̀̉̀̉̆̾̈́̾g̴̘̉̿̉̌͌o̶͇͙̙͇̠̿

Hells City, Hellscape

_Ash and soot rained from above, a few embers landing on his bare arms and stinging them._

_He wasn’t wearing his usual leather vest and blouse, nor the armor that had appeared in so many other... dreams? visions? He didn’t know._

_Instead, a loose-fitting short-sleeved shirt hung off his skinny frame. Except he wasn’t exactly skinny, now. His arms were well-muscled, although covered in scars, and he looked like he’d actually eaten enough for once. The traces of malnourishment that still scarred his build were nearly unnoticeable._

_He couldn’t tell for sure without his reflection, but his hair was shorter, but just long enough to tickle his forehead._

_A sword was in his hands, the expensive netherite blade glittering dangerously in the half-light. He didn’t know why he held it._

_He felt incredibly tired, the last traces of the adrenaline and anger of battle leaving his veins as he looked around in confusion._

_He was in a large blackstone room, like he usually was in these dreams of his. A throne sat on the far side, the blackstone fading into a dark sci-fi metal plating as it grew closer._

_A limp figure was splayed out in the floor in front of him, shackles on their wrists. Hels tilted his head at the mask covering the lower half of their face. It was a dark grey that was nearly black, like the loose-fitting clothes that they wore, the type of clothes made to be worn under a suit of armor. Hels couldn’t help but note the rips and tears in the fabric._

_He stepped over them, dropping his axe onto the foor with a clatter as he wandered closer to the throne._

_A hooded being sat on it, and a familiar, and... comforting, at this point, voice reached his ears._

_The being was chuckling; accented voice a patronizing tone. “Why, hello there, Stargazer.”_

_“Who... who are you?”_

_The being stood, the shadows still unrevealing of whatever was underneath that hood. “You ask that every time, stargazer. You shall know soon. Now...”_

_“But!”_

_“...Wake up, little one...”_

-

True stood at the door, watching as Hels’ unconscious frame rose up and down with shaky breaths. His hand was hanging off the side of the bed and was twitching violently. 

_ What’s going on inside that head of yours, Hels? _ She wondered, subconsciously reaching up to feel the scar on her cheek. 

Leaving her post, she unsheathed her sword from where it hung at her waist and headed down to the common room. 

Hels had been increasingly short-tempered and reclusive, and they’d stopped doing their training sessions. She and Cub had been assigned to keeping an eye on him, but Cub had done most of the work, suspiciously eyeing the elf’s every move.

Which had been increasingly more violent. He was still the sweet, lovable Hels when she could drag him out of his shell... but his own behavior and the nervous glances everyone gave him didn’t help. 

He’d been banned from the training arena, after they’d decided to give him a second chance. It hadn’t gone well at all, and after it Gri hadn’t been able to fly for two months. 

She took in a shaky breath. Everyone who’d pushed the first big incident off for Hels just getting ahead of himself and being an edgy teen hadn’t been able to ignore the last one. 

It hadn’t just been affecting Hels’ behavior. 

Gri had been more paranoid and anxious, taking every chance he had since his wing had healed to go on missions. Cub had been more aggressive, though she knew that was just his first instinct when his kin was in danger. Suma had been keeping a closer eye on the monitors, and had been urgently recommending that they speed up their plans. She herself had been more jumpy and panic attack prone. 

She didn’t entirely know why. 

She didn’t know why, after all of her life,  he sent her into spirals of paranoia. 

True sighed. 

It wouldn’t do anything for her to dwell on it. 

She reached the common room, waving at Tek and Imp, who were looking rather suspicious and had... a strange amount of bagels on their heads. Cub was in the corner, half-asleep as he poured a cup of coffee. 

Gri was hovering around Suma and Bumbo as they worked on some sort of redstone circuit, the avian having an expression of extreme confusion as he looked over their shoulders. 

Gevin was juggling bagels and simultaneously bantering with Etho and Bubbles, the latter of whom was hiding in a pile of blankets and looking rather grumpy. 

Spider was nowhere to be seen, and True assumed she was out and about somewhere, perhaps gathering food or intel. 

She made her way over to Suma and Bumbo, sitting down on the couch opposite them, which Gri also now occupied. 

The redstone was only about a quarter of the size of the table, roughly the size of a laptop. It was flashing methodically, though one light was blinking erratically, and the pair were focused on it. 

“...yep, you’ll need a repeater there.” Suma’s helmet sat in his lap, and long brown hair fell past his shoulders, most of it pulled into a loose ponytail. 

Piercing amber eyes were focused on the circuit, and magic of the same color wove around him as he fixed a few minor errors of it. 

“You boys having fun?” True smirked, eyeing the redstone warily. It had never been her strong suit, and never would be, she was sure of that. 

Bumbo nodded, fiddling with a part of the circuit. 

Gri groaned. “I’ve been watching for two hours and still don’t understand a thing. AND NO, Bumbo, I DON’T need another explanation.” 

True snorted. 

“Hels doing okay?” Suma asked quietly. It didn’t achieve much besides peaking Bumbo and Gri’s attention, the latter curling his wings around himself. 

“He’s been having some nightmares, I think.” She responded, fiddling with the hem of her coat’s sleeve. “I wish I weren’t so paranoid about it, but...” 

“It isn’t your fault, True.” Bumbo said sweetly. He then immediately went back to the redstone.

She nodded, avoiding their gaze. She of course knew it wasn’t really her fault. But she could have stopped it, or been there more for him, or helped him, or taught him how important compassion was and how dangerous violence was in a harsh world such as this one. 

She could have done  _ something _ .

“True.” Suma caught her gaze. “You couldn’t have stopped it. Hels made and makes his own choices.” 

“You can’t change the fact he’s a bit of an asshole.” Gri chirped, now somehow upside down on the couch, legs hanging over the back of it and wings splayed out on the cushions. 

“...I’m just afraid of what he’ll do next.” 

Suma tilted his head, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Whatever happens will happen, True.”

“What’ll happen?” 

-

Hels blinked blearily at them. His dream was already escaping the desperate grasp of memory, but a looming anxiety and anger hung over him. 

The group looked incredibly shocked at his interruption. Gri had fallen off the couch he was sitting? on altogether, Bumbo had accidentally broken a repeater from the unwarranted shock, Suma’s expression had a closed-off... guarded, per say, feel to it, and True’s eyes had widened, knuckles white as she gripped onto her sword. 

“Nothing that isn’t meant to happen.” Suma deadpanned, a scarily knowing look in his eyes. 

Hells nodded, giving him a forced smile. “Makes sense.” He sat down on a chair. 

“I’m going to go see where Spider went off to.” True smiled nervously, making a hasty exit. 

Gri had just full on disappeared. 

Bumbo glared at him, stormy blue eyes full of mistrust. 

Hels reserved himself to a sigh, but his chest had tightened with that familiar anxiety, that age-old paranoia. 

“The redstone going good, I hope?” He asked nervously. 

They were silent for a moment. 

“Hels, I need you for a mission.” Suma said, completely ignoring Hels’ question. 

“What for?” 

“You’ll see soon enough.” The man? (who knew if Suma was human) stood, putting his helmet back on. The small clinks of metal were just loud enough to distract Hels’ attention. “Be ready in the next two months. True and I still need to work out the logistics.” 

Hels nodded nervously. 

Suma muttered something to Bumbo, patting his shoulder comfortingly before leaving the kid to clean up the mess of redstone. 

_A mission?_

-

Just miles away, a poet looked down upon the city full of strife and suffering. 

Something in him, as long as he could remember, had told him that  he wasn’t supposed to be here . 

This wasn’t supposed to be occurring. 

None of it was; the lies, the pain, the fear. 

The stars that were far gone from this world denied its very existence. 

And yet the poet stood over the city, watching it from a distance. 

“You doing alright there?” 

His friend’s soft footsteps were just barely audible above the dissident soundtrack of the land.

“Thanks for askin’, Cleo.” He sighed. “Just contemplatin’ life. Somethin’ about this all just... feels wrong.” 

The hybrid passed him a bittersweet smile, seeming to understand. 

“Enough about me. How is it at y’all’s resistance?” 

“Eh, it’s fine.” She scuffed her boot against the rubble-like netherrack. “True and Suma are really paranoid. I think we all are.” 

“No wonder. When are y’all planning to do it?” 

“First stage is in... two Wednesdays, I think.” 

“That’s closer than one would think.” 

“No kidding.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp   
> Hels it isn’t normal to have dreams like that  
> Anyway.   
> How are y’all doing?   
> I hope you’re doing good.   
> Or at least... decent, I guess.   
> Any cameos you’d like to see?   
> *yeets m’n’m’s at you all until you respond*


	13. And I’ll miss them, but I’m not sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ik it was technically two days ago, but HAPPY THANKSGIVING!  
> even if you don’t celebrate it, have a very wonderful end of November!

12? Years ago

Hells City, Hellscape

“I think I found what you described” 

“Any civilians in the proximity?”

“No, sir.”

“Fire away, Gri.” Suma’s staticky voice echoed through the comm. 

Hels let his anxious smirk back on his face, lowering his binoculars and parkouring to the nearest roof. It was time for the light show to begin. 

Dawn-colored wings flashed briefly through the foggy air above him, and time seemed to slow.

The hiss of TNT was quiet, but it cut through the silent night like a knife. 

The smell of gunpowder was faint, brief and unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it. 

And Hels plugged his ears as a flash of white covered everything before him.

“Commander?”

“Be careful. They’ll have noticed. We have... I’d say ten minutes to get in and get out.” 

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Hels smirked and silenced his comm, lowering the hood of the cape he was wearing and leaping down.

The smoke had cleared, the dynamite having blown a large hole in the side of the mansion.

For the past week, he’d prepared for this. 

Suma and True had been setting the stage for who knows how long as well. 

He couldn’t let this go to waste, regardless of his personal relationships with the others. 

Treading softly, he stepped through the hole in the wall, making no noise. 

His sensitive ears twitched, and he sped up, trying to quench the strange sense of fearful dread in his chest.

The others had picked one of the richest families to steal from, one of the families that went out of their way to be horrible to the peasants. They’d been sure that the family would be able to afford a hole in their wall and a portion of their money stolen. 

Which, now that he thought about it, gave the government some substantial reason to attack them.

Eh, they deserved it.

Hels had found this is what some of the dirtier works of the resistance looked like. Usually just a tag team and Suma behind the monitors, it was clear True and Gri were used to infiltrating just as a duo. 

Hels was just here to prove himself. 

Then again, when was he not?

He turned left, towards the very expensive-looking vault door. 

Even in the three measly months he’d been on the team, Bumbo had told him almost everything the kid knew on vault doors, Cub correcting him on multiple points. Gri had helped by spewing out some commonly used vault codes. How he’d memorized them was beyond Hels.

Hels didn’t know how any of them did it, but honestly, he couldn’t be surprised. 

Twisting out the wires like Bumbo and Cub had taught him to, he waited for the short flicker that meant the redstone was short circuiting. 

The flash was brighter than it usually was, but it worked, and Hels snapped the wire. The door creaked open on old wheels or whatever they used to make vault doors. Hels didn’t know. 

Anyway.

He stepped into the strangely bright room, taking a double take on the sheer size of the room. It was nearly as big as the library, the walls made of gilded blackstone and netherite. A large pile of diamonds and gold sat in the center, a few random beacons lighting the room up with a soft silvery blue light.

Hels was stunned. 

“Hels, you good? Time’s running a bit short, peeps.” Suma’s worried voice crackled through the comm, and Hels snapped to attention. 

He took about half the richities, making sure to leave the resistance’s apparently signature sign and a quote. 

“...someone down there...” 

Voices echoed down the hallway, and the dread’s grip on his rib cage tightened. 

Hels tossed the shulker he’d put the stolen richities in into his satchel, whipping out his  ~~ father’s ~~ sword as he ran.

“THERE! SOMEONE’S ESCAPING!” 

Hels felt something hit his shoulder and he stumbled, letting out a surprised gasp as he slammed into the ground.

“THEY’RE DOWN! GET THEM!” 

He bit his tongue and wrenched out the arrow lodged deep in his upper arm, barely being able to bite back a scream.

“STAY DOWN, YOU!”

Hels threw down the arrow, pushing himself up. Fight or flight instincts kicked in, and his fear overtook his anger and pain. 

“STOP!”

He did everything but. 

Running like his life depended on it, Hels burst out of the hole in the wall, panicking, short breaths tearing through his chest as he raced out into the dark streets, as far away from the mansion as he could get. 

“STOP IT, YOU!”

The guy following him loaded his crossbow yet again, not being able to follow Hels any further.

Arrows wizzed past him, one managing to lodge itself right where his shoulder met his neck.

He screamed this time, a red haze of pain clouding his senses. 

“...Hels?” The comm stuttered, the shards of it lodging in his hand.

“HELS!” Gri’s yell echoed through the streets, followed by a yelp of pain and loud wingbeats.

He collapsed, panting, in an alleyway several blocks away. Some ounce of common sense in him, he shrunk the shulker box, hiding it in a pouch attached to his belt. He couldn’t reach the arrow in his neck, and panic filled him. Feeling his shoulder, he pulled away his hand, slick with blood. Dark potion particles emitted from the wounds, and he slumped against the Netherbrick wall of the alley.

_ That’s not good, _ his exhausted brain managed to mutter. 

“...Hels? ...where are you? Gri you.... Hels?” 

And then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today, folks  
> Yes, yes, the vault is indeed one of Mumbo’s designs.  
> They’re quite popular in Hellscape.  
> And Gri’s fine.  
> Or... well, alive.  
> He’s alive.


	14. Everything that has transpired has done so according to my design

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this chapter is still short.  
> Hope you all enjoy it!

1̸̨̝̲̪͙̤̘̜̞͑͗̇2̷̨̼̰̖̲̪̭̣͇̻̥̺̒͊͊͋͒̆̏̽͗̃ ̷̮͝y̴̢̭̲̫̙͈̟̪͍͔͕̩͠e̶̡̡̡͕̖̠̒̅͆̑̍̑̀̎͆̄̅̅̿̕͠a̸̛̦̻̍̊̈́̈́̋͒͝͝r̷̢̨̛̲͙̲̪̤̳̘͓̣̮͇̃̏͋̋̆̽̂̉͗̾͊ş̴̫̙̫͖̯̖̒̾̏̉̀͗̇̕ ̶̧̮̰̣͉͚̼̬̤̳̝̈̋̍̒ā̵̗̙̣̅͂͂͌͊̈̄́́͌̀͘͝͠g̷͖̼͈̻̟̜̘͉̅ó̸̯̭̻͍̭̰͙̫̟̱̮̂͑̈́̉̑̉̾̄̂̊̓̊ͅ  
̷̟̎̎̾͑̋̐̏̿̈́̆́  
̷̟́̃̽͘H̸̢͚̫͕̼̠̼̮̲̦̦̽̃͜ę̶̭̝̝̭͋̾̿̽́̀̅͘l̵̢͌̈́̂͋̓́͛͊̃̀́͠͠l̴̠̘̲̖̖͔̳̼̉̀s̵̢̼̰̳̱̯̲̩͚̗̙̓̋̀͋̎ ̸̭͔̎͛̂̄͐̈́͋̅͒̾̅͠͠Ć̶̳͖̻̻̺̥̹̘̹̟̜͎̣̾̋͗̂́̒̌́͌̄̕͝i̸̤̽̾̆́̾͒t̵̻͆͑̉͋̃̒͊y̶̨̡̞̪̬̟̝̠̞̟͙͂̈́͒̓̇͛̌̕ͅ,̸̡̨͕̜͙̙͚̹͕̩̞͋ ̸͈̩̺̹̠̫̬̦͙̻̅̈́͒̌̊͝H̴͙̥̘̫͛̔̀ȩ̷̢̨͇̮̈́́̓͌͛̑̓̋ͅl̶̪̬͓̟̳̫̭̗̲͖̖͔̳͌̍́̚͜͝ͅl̴̹̊͐͐́͑̎̿̽̈́̃͑͠s̵̨̝͇̤̲̯̙̰͉̞̓ͅc̵̨̲͇̦̀̌̀̓̒̅̑̀̈̅̓a̵̪̭̔̑̎̇̏p̴͇͐͑̏̐ȩ̵̲̩̟̖͚͠

The morning air was hot and ashy, a faint breeze making its way to the city.

He smiled, reaching out and feeling the currents of the Force around him. 

Brightness... Darkness...

Life... Death...

Beginning...E̸̡̦̳̠̤̭͒̐̓͆͆͆̋̈̚͜͝n̷̢̧̦̯̞͋̔̔̿̈͘̚͝͝ḑ̵̗̦̞̼͇͖̤̔̅̽͗̄̕͝ͅ...

And the perfect concoction that he controlled here in the Nether. 

It was his. 

All his. 

His eyes snapped open, and he saw his land through the tint of his sunglasses. 

_ Focus. Remember to focus. _

He closed his eyes again, reaching out into the scars of the land that he knew so much about. 

Their victory still rang in his ears. 

The pained screeches of those darned monsters.

And the crackle of flame and lightning as he closed the portals to those broken places for eternity. 

And if he reached further, he could see the cracks. 

He could see where bits and pieces of the story had fallen through the holes and out of the frantic grip of history. 

And if he pushed further...

_ It’s blocked.  _

But his ability in the force weaseled past the barriers of galactic code. 

So no time reading. 

No visions of the future. 

At least for not this other world. 

This other world that was horrendously bright and... blue. This place was void of the familiar dark and heavily saturated reds of his dimension. This place had a feeling of horrifying harmony and sickeningly sweet balance. 

Life and death were equals, death both a savior and a challenge instead of an ominous danger that could and would snatch you at any second. Life was an achievement, a blessing, something that was a comfort instead of something to hold onto in anxiety and fear. There was both coldness and heat, and a huge variety of balance in between. 

And this place was huge. He could feel it, even in the code, that there was more. More to explore, more to conquer, to defeat. 

He pushed forward, into the code, trying to look for the morons who lived in this place. 

But he found so, so much more.

_ Oh wow. _

There was so much to this place. 

Three figures caught his attention. 

So this is who I have to deal with.

They were building an island... a huge island. The first one was too far away to make out clearly, and seemed to be consulting a few other smaller, less important ones. The second was overseeing the building, and seemed to be sharpening a sword that radiated their magical prowess. The third was with a few smaller winged ones, all of them with enormous magical power, all of them sitting cross-legged on the endstone. Two small ones sat on their lap, heads tilted attentively as they listened to the friendly banter of the other creatures. 

The force tore him away from looking deeper into who they all were. 

A flash of metal caught his eye. 

There was a young knight, parrying and thrusting with the air. They were in a small meadow in a forest, the tall, thin trees dancing in the wind alongside the knight. 

Butterflies and little winged squirrels spectated them from the sidelines, the world completely on pause as it watched the little knight. Fire lizards chirped every time they scored a hit on the breeze, and laughed alongside the young elf as the wind retaliated by tousling their hair. 

He noticed a guitar and a satchel full of books discarded against a tree, along with an elegantly crafted sheath that matched the blade in the knight’s hands. 

Baby phantoms cooed from the trees, their large teal eyes mesmerized by the flashing diamond. 

The world was on hold for this little elf. It was completely at peace, the harmony of it all reverberating in the near silence. 

He pushed into the force, wanting to get out of this sickening vision.

The knight paused, sapphire eyes opening warily. 

He froze.

The elf’s grip tightened their sword, eyes flashing as they looked for the cause of the disturbance. 

The squirrel things scattered skittishly; the butterflies blown away by the gale that swept though the forest with zero warning as he pulled on the force, trying to escape. 

The phantomlings screeched for their parents and huddled back out of sight. The lizards’ eyes widened at the crack of thunder in the distance and they scrambled away under the rocks they had perched on moments before. 

The elf’s dirty blonde hair was swept in their face as they snatched up their things, eyes still wide with worry as they kept their sword in a defensive position. 

“Your Majesty?” A shaky voice broke through the storm.

And the Emperor was jerked back into reality, his hands tingling as they readjusted to the heat of the Nether that contrasted so sharply with the cold chill of the force. 

“Yes, Lieutenant?” 

“We caught the boy.” 

He sighed in relief, and tugged his hood back over his head. “Lieutenant?” 

“Yes, my lord?” 

“Enjoy your new rank as Captain.” He turned around to face the new captain of his army, nodding as he saluted. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Now, show me my new apprentice.”

-

Far away, a king set down his pen. 

Far away. 

So far, even, that time was different in this reality.

It isn’t the leaders who you’re probably thinking of. 

At this moment, Eret cast another look at the castle that he had once built. 

At this moment, George, the newly crowned successor to a man of great prestige, sighed at another of Sapnap’s horrible jokes. 

At this moment, Techno sat down and started polishing the now famed crossbow, chuckling as Tommy screamed something in chat. 

At this moment, Scar realized that he had once again created a chest monster bigger than he could handle. 

But this king was one known far better than any of them. 

“Mobbo, send another message to the council. Let them know that the voidling culprit has gone missing.” 

“ᓭᒷリ↸ ╎ℸ ̣ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᔑꖎꖎ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᔑ↸ᒲ╎リ, ᒲ|| ꖎ𝙹∷↸?” The pink-skinned creature asked. 

“No, moron.” Steve sighed, and he shuffled through the papers on his desk until he found a list. “Just to the people on this paper.” 

“ᓭ𝙹... ᒲ𝙹ᓭℸ ̣𝙹⎓ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᔑ↸ᒲ╎リ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣ᔑ∷ᒷリ’ℸ ̣ᔑ⎓⎓╎ꖎ╎ᔑℸ ̣ ᒷ↸ ∴╎ℸ ̣ ⍑ ||𝙹⚍∷ ʖ∷𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷.”

“Yeah, basically.”

“ᓭ⍑ᔑꖎꖎ ╎ ᓭᒷリ↸ ╎ℸ ̣ℸ ̣ 𝙹̇/╎ᓭ⚍ᒲᔑ⍊𝙹╎↸, ᒲ|| ꖎ𝙹∷↸?”

“I see no reason to worry him. The voidling has caused him too much trouble.”

“ʖ ⚍ℸ ̣ ℸ ̣  ⍑ ᒷ ||’ ∷ ᒷ ʖ ∷ 𝙹ℸ ̣  ⍑ ᒷ ∷ ᓭ ,  ᒲ ||  ꖎ -“

“DO YOU NOT THINK I KNOW THAT?” The being shouted, his indigo magic wreathing its way around him.

“ᓭ𝙹∷∷||, ᒲ|| ꖎ𝙹∷↸..” Mobbo cringed, and then backed away, list in hand. “⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ᔑ ⊣𝙹𝙹↸ ∴ᒷᒷꖌ.”

“Have a good week as well, Mobbo.” 

Steve sighed again as the creature left the room, bringing up indigo screens that floated around him. 

“Now, to find that troublemaker...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, multiple POV pog.  
> Also, there’s apparently a Blood Moon tonight, which is pretty cool.  
> Welp, back to physics homework for me.  
> *pelts m’n’ms at you all*


	15. Oh Memories Bring Back You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOOOO   
> Wil’s higher on trending than Taylor frickin Swift rn  
> My happiness is immeasurable at the moment.  
> Anyway, enjoy today’s chapter...
> 
> (TW for implied suicide and manipulation)

Tick. 

Tock. 

Tick.

Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

His eyes opened with a snap. 

Staring blankly at the dark, paneled walls that could easily be mistaken for blackstone at first glance, he wondered vaguely why this felt so disorienting. 

Tick.  _ Tock.  _

_ Tick. Tock. _

This wasn’t the underground, he realized...

_ tick.  _

tock.

... and everything flooded back. 

“Hels.” 

He jerked in shock, and suddenly realized he was bound in a black sci-fi-y chair. Straps bound him almost completely, and a gag cut into the corners of his cheeks as he tried to yell.

_ tick. tock.  _

_ tick, tock.  _

“Oh, my dear padawan.” A patronizing voice came from a rather familiar hooded figure who stepped into view to face the front of the chair. “We finally meet.”

Hels glared at him. 

“You know, you seem quite reluctant to move on. To meet your future.” 

A chill crawled down Hels’ spine as fear and anticipation drowned his fear.  _Wha... what do you mean..._

The emperor’s eyes narrowed behind the hood and shades, the glowing orange flashing, and suddenly his hand reached out, fingers pressing to Hels’ forehead. “You know what I mean.” 

Hels opened his mouth to try to respond...

_ “You’re in no place to argue, little one.” _

_... and the world went dark, void closing in on all sides.  _

_ The sound of a match lighting made him jump, and suddenly he realized that he was, in fact, standing.  _

_ Not bound.  _

_ The flame’s small glow came closer, the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up as it did so.  _

_ A scarred hand was holding the match, arm coming out of a cloak of shadows that nearly blended into the void.  _

_ “Who... who are you?” Hels whispered.  _

_ The cloaked figure didn’t answer, a low chuckle echoing around in the emptiness. _

_ They turned to a skyline that materialized in the void, and the blood red stone came into view... that hung over... Hells City. His city.  _

_ “It will be yours, little one. Just you wait.”  _

_ “Who are you?” Hels repeated, louder this time.  _

_ “You ask that every time.” The figure turned to him. “But you know who I am.”  _

_ “I...” _

_ “You’ve  always known who I am. ” _

_ Hels stumbled back in fear, and the figure chuckled, lowering their hood.  _

_ It was the Emperor.  _

_ Brown hair was loosely tied back into a ponytail, a few grey hairs streaking the Sith Lord’s goatee. His sunglasses were lowered, barely revealing withered and scarred skin and bright orange eyes.  _

_ “Why did you bring me here?”  _

_ The Emperor shrugged. “Mostly to get away from my idiotic guards. And other reasons, but I won’t delve into them.”  _

_ Hels’ breath caught in his throat as he realized how vulnerable the Renperor was making him by bringing him to this mindscape. “No. Why did you take me away.”  _

_ The Emperor chuckled patronizingly. “Oh, my dear padawan. You have so much to learn.”  _

_ Hels shifted impatiently. “But why-“ _

_ “Because you were going to die.” The Renperor’s voice was suddenly low, meanacing, the strangely playful air that Hels hadn’t noticed before vaporizing in a snap. “Those nobodies were going to leave you to die, Hels. They don’t care about you. How hard is that to comprehend?  They don’t care. ”  _

_ “No...” Hels wheeled back, insecurities ripping at his insides. “They do.”  _

_ But Cub’s glare, True’s haunted look, Suma’s coldness, Gri’s anxious and fearful gaze... all of it flooded back.  _

_ “How could they trust you, padawan?” The Emperor’s voice echoed in his head, over... and over... _

_ And over.  _

_ How  could  they trust about him? He’d almost killed them! Several times, in fact.  _

_ Why... _

_ Why would they trust him.  _

_ “Nobody ever has.” The Renperor’s voice snarled. “Not even your own kin.”  _

_ Broken screams came back from the past.  _

_ He watched as the void around them rematerialized into his childhood home. _

_ Nausea clutched at his throat.  _

_ “Helsie, I made a friend for you!”  His little sister... hell, was she even still alive? ran into the main room of the small apartment, a little doll crafted out of warped vines clutched in her small hands.  “They can be friends with Void!”  _

_ Void.  _

_ His little sister’s favorite doll.  _

_ It had been based off of tales of another fantasy world that their mother had told them. A fantasy where there was more than just a Hell dimension, a world where, in one dimension, there were these winged beings.  _

_ Voidlings, their mother had called them.  _

_ The sound drowned out as the rest of the scene continued, and Hels heard nothing but the inconsistent ringing in his ears.  _

_ Seven year-old him smacked the doll to the ground, angry and upset after a failed training session.  _

_ His little sister began to cry, and he tried to comfort her by joking lightly. Which backfired as he absentmindedly teased her. _

_ It, of course, only made her wail harder. _

_ Their mother stumbled in, face ashy from her illness and a blanket wrapped tightly around her.  _

_ They quieted, forgetting the short squabble, rushing to help her if it meant comfort and stories of fantasy lands.  _

_ The scene flashed forward in time.  _

_ His father was slumped, broken, on the floor, armor and black cloak tattered and dirty.  _

_ He and his sister watched from the banister of the upstairs, tear tracks streaking down his sister’s little face. He was quiet. _

_ The memory of that void of emptiness growing inside of him came back with full force. _

_ His father noticed them and yelled, his face red and wet with grief.  _

_ They scrambled away into their separate rooms.  _

_ Time flashed forward again.  _

_ He was ten.  _

_ A knock on the front door echoed in the mindscape, and his father opened it, eyes still glazed over from grief, depression, and anger.  _

_ A stormtrooper was at the door. _

_ They handed Hels’ father a letter.  _

_ He remembered that letter. _

_ He’d snuck in to read it later that night.  _

_ It was an announcement. The Empire was in need of a new generation of stormtroopers.  _

_ So Hels went to the Academy of the Empire. _

_ A year and a half later, his sister joined him.  _

_ She did engineering and coding, aspiring to become one of the head officers.  _

_ He was in training for a prestigious spot as a Imperial Death Trooper. _

_ Time skipped ahead.  _

_ His father became more depressed and broken over the years.  _

_The last moment he remembered with his father was saying goodbye to him on his way out the door one morning before the weekly trek back to the academy._

_ When they’d returned home for the weekend there was nothing but a note on the kitchen table and their father’s sword.  _

_ Time slowed to a crawl those next few months, grief dragging it down. They were kicked out of their apartment, unable to pay for it.  _

_ So they moved into the academy, with nothing but whatever was in their bags and the clothes on their backs. _

_ He and his sister grew apart.  _

_ But time, did, indeed, move on.  _

_ And then that day happened.  _

_ He was fourteen. _

_ He’d been teased for something or other, it didn’t matter what exactly. _

_ He became pissed off.  _

_ He’d always been a target for the jerks that got away with bullying, with a relatively small stature as a kid, coming from the poorest part of Hellscape, and of course being a lonely and angsty teen.  _

_ Things escalated, words were tossed, and the kids picking on him mentioned something about his parents.  _

_ Hels exploded. The world went red, and before he knew it, the jerks were on the ground, bloody and unconscious. Flames ripped through the Academy, and any furniture in the room had been turned to rubble. _

_ He ran, unknowing of anything else to do.  _

_ He had all of his worldly belongings on him, and so he ran.  _

_ What else could he have done? _

_ The Renperor sighed behind him, making him jump. _

_ “They didn’t care, little one. Can’t you see? They didn’t stick around for you.” _

_ “They... they tried...” His voice caught in his throat.  _

_ “But they didn’t. Not even your own family cared enough to stay around for you.”  _

_ Hels went silent. _

_ “I’ll let you think on it, padawan.”  _

_The Emperor pulled his hood back up and faded into the void._

And everything went dark for a second time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> backstory pog
> 
> MCC 13 was a ride, my friends. WE GOT THE MAN TO DODGEBOLT THO


End file.
